


The Trouble with Acronyms

by NorthWyn



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-08 03:05:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1924380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthWyn/pseuds/NorthWyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ward glances around the empty waiting room before realizing she must be talking to him. "My...wife?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Trouble with Acronyms

**Author's Note:**

> Previously posted on FF.net.

“Have you seen my SO? You know: Huge. Brooding. Handsome. The you-will-meet-a-tall-dark-stranger type?”

 

The nurses exchange a look she knows all too well and Skye resists the urge to roll her eyes. “Yes, he is _cute_. Could you send him in here, please?”

 

The nurses blush and skitter out of the room. 

 

 

* * *

 

“She's fine, Coulson. Really. Uh-huh. We should be back within an hour.”

 

Ward sighs as he hangs up the call. As if he hadn't felt bad enough already about her getting injured on a mission on his watch. 

 

“Sir?”

 

He looks up at the nurse standing in the doorway. “Yes?”

 

“Your wife is asking for you.”

 

Ward glances around the empty waiting room before realizing she must be talking to him. “My...wife?”

 

The nurse gives him a funny look. “Skye? In bed 3, with the broken wrist?”

 

Ward quickly pulls the most concerned face he can manage. “Yes, of course. How is she?”

 

“She's fine. This way, please.”

 

He follows her out of the room, surveying everything he passes, trying to find the source of danger that had caused Skye to come up with an undercover story like that on the spot. 

 

He can't see anything suspicious and when he gets back to her room, she is sitting on the stretcher with an annoyed expression. “Oh, good, you're back. I can't sign these.” She waves her broken right wrist. “What kind of hospital still uses paper anyway?” 

 

“I'll take care of it, honey.” 

 

She freezes. “What?”

 

“I can sign those for you because we're _married_.” Honestly, didn't she come up with this? Why is she being so slow to catch on?

 

Her eyes widen. “Oh, of course, hubby dear.”

 

Ward winces. 

 

After signing her discharge papers, he helps her down off the stretcher and then wraps an arm around her shoulders. “Let's go home.” 

 

She slides her left arm around his waist and nuzzles up against his side. “Can't wait, sweetheart.”

 

Ward shoots her a dubious look.

 

He keeps an arm around her shoulders until they get to the parking lot and then Skye breaks free of him.

 

“Why did you do that?” she hisses in a whisper, “Are we hiding from someone?”

 

“Do what?”

 

“Pretend you were my husband!”

 

He stopped. “Wait. _You_ pretended to be _my_ wife.”

 

“Uh, no, I didn't.”

 

“Yes, the nurse said--”

 

“The nurse? Wait...” she starts laughing. 

 

“What? What is it?” 

 

“I called you my SO.”

 

He frowns. “So?”

 

“SO, significant other. She's not some military robot freak like the rest of you people. She assumed I meant we were married, not that you are my supervising officer.” 

 

Ward puts a hand to his forehead and massages his temples, a pained expression on his face. “Oh. Let's...let's not mention this when we get back to the Bus.”

 

She laughs and pats his arm. “Are you kidding? That was great! I can't wait to tell everyone!” 

 

Ward sighs.

 

“Don't worry; I'm not going to start doodling Mrs. Agent Grant Ward in my notebook.”

 

**-end-**


End file.
